


Rain Check

by ObsessedFandomNerd



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Wizards (Tales of Arcadia)
Genre: All I know is that they're in Arcadia and the Arcane Order isn't around, All these two wanted was one (1) successful date, But Mother Nature had other plans, Dating, Douxie has tattoos, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Guitars, How Do I Tag, Is this post-series?, Is this pre-series?, Music, Rain, Song Lyrics, That's canon in my head at this point, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26785423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedFandomNerd/pseuds/ObsessedFandomNerd
Summary: After rain and helping a stranger cuts his date with Zoe short, Douxie endeavors to make it up to her the only way he knows how: with music.
Relationships: Archie & Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan, Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan & Zoe, Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan/Zoe
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	Rain Check

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Writinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writinger/gifts).



> Request from Writinger: "One of them writes a song for the other? Or Douxie plays something improvised and Zoe makes up lyrics?"
> 
> But I also wanted to write more fanfic based off of art by Tenyai so I combined the two here!

He was boxed in, the enemy surrounding him from all sides weapons at the ready. He made to back away, but was met with the hard, immovable stone of the wall. He looked beyond the encroachers to where his allies lay dead.

This was it. This was the end. All hope was gone. There was nothing,  _ nothing  _ left that he could do except surrender, offer himself up and pray to the Ancients that his captors would be merciful. There was no other way out…

He cast one last glance at his fallen allies and that’s when he noticed  _ him. _ The chief of the marauders standing just behind his men, silently watching the carnage unfold.

All was not lost! He quickly scanned the approaching line. All he needed was one crack, one small fissure…

There! The two men on the far end were not as tightly packed together as the rest of the soldiers. He dashed at the line with as much speed as he could muster and rammed his shoulder between the two hulking bodies.

Huzzah! He was through! But it was not time for celebrations yet. With the last of his remaining strength, he charged at the leader. He swung his weapon back behind his head and…

“Game, set, and match!” Douxie crowed, as he knocked over Zoe’s marble chief with his own.

She surveyed the board, her mouth a small ‘oh.’ It was quickly replaced by a scowl.

“No way! You cheated.”

He flashed her a dashing, self-satisfied smirk.

“I believe you mean, ‘You used your vastly greater levels of expertise and strategy to best me in a battle of wits.’”

She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Slow your role, Hisirdoux,” she said, “You haven’t been playing for  _ that _ much longer.”

He grinned as she tried to hide her pouting. He turned his head away and tapped his chin, miming deep thought.

“If I recall correctly, I started playing in 1263 and you didn’t start playing until  _ 1545 _ .”

She reached across the park bench to bat him on the arm as he giggled.

“Such a sore loser,” he chided, catching her hand as she moved to draw it back and bringing it to his lips.

She rolled her eyes even as a smirk played on her lips.

“This is nice,” he said, “Just you and me without a single furry chaperone or nefarious magical creature in sight.”

He stroked his thumb over the knuckles of the hand he still held.

_ Plink. _

A droplet of water appeared on her skin.

_ Plink, plink. _

It was shortly followed by two more. Zoe withdrew her hand from his and reached for her umbrella.

“Right on time,” she said, opening the pink, skull-patterned contraption.

Douxie pulled his hood up as, with a flick of her wrist and a flash of pink light, Zoe transformed the board and its pieces into a record. She tucked it under one arm.

“New trick?”

She shrugged.

“Easier to carry this way. So, your palace or mine?”

He hopped up from the bench to trot by her side as the two began their leisurely stroll from the park.

“Well that all depends. Are you in the mood for tea and guitar or leftovers and vinyls?”

She hummed, debating the two options.

“Feels like a leftovers and vinyls night.”

“Your place it is then!”

He reached around her to drape his arm around her shoulders as they meandered through the park.

Douxie slowed as they passed the pavilion, eyes drawn to a lone figure hunched just inside the structure. Zoe stopped when she realized he was no longer right beside her. She turned around to find him staring intently at an old woman taking shelter from the rain.

“Wilson!” the old woman called, “Wilson, come back here!”

A sharp yip sounded from the middle of the green and drew Zoe’s attention to where a pomeranian defiantly splashed through a puddle.

She turned her eyes back to Douxie. His teeth worried his lower lip as his gaze flicked between the woman, the dog, and her. She smiled softly as she returned to his side and handed him her umbrella. He turned to her, half-startled at her reappearance, so lost in thought was he.

“Go on,” she said, “I’ll meet you at my place.”

He released his lip from between his teeth.

“Thank you,” he said, grabbing hold of her umbrella, “But if I’m going to take this…”

He swapped the umbrella from hand to hand as he shrugged out of his hoodie, exposing the geometric tattoos on his upper arms. He held the dark garment out to her.

“Here.”

She slipped her arms through the sleeves and pulled the hood up over her head, offering a quick wave before pelting off through what was quickly becoming a torrent. Douxie made his way across the path and up the steps of the pavilion.

“Madame,” he said, holding the umbrella out before the old woman and offering her his other hand, “Allow me.”

The old woman gushed and reached out to take his hand, moving under the umbrella. With Douxie’s hand steadying her and the umbrella keeping her dry, the two managed to descend the pavilion steps and cross the field to the rebellious pomeranian. The old woman released his hand and bent down to pick up her dog.

“Wilson, you naughty boy, running off like that!” she chided, “Look at you! You’re completely soaked.”

Despite the reprimand, the dog yipped once more, clearly self-satisfied, as his tail wagged from side to side. The woman turned to Douxie as she secured the pup snuggly to her chest.

“Thank you, young man.”

Douxie offered a smile with a modest bow of his head, partly to cover up his chuckle at her use of the word “young.”

“Happy to help.”

The woman smiled sweetly back at him, still shielded from the rain by Zoe’s umbrella. Her expression changed as she looked forlornly out at the street where the heavy droplets poured down.

“I suppose I should be heading home,” she sighed, “I won’t trouble you anymore.”

Douxie followed her stricken gaze, taking note of his own already soaked condition. He bit his lip. Zoe would already be waiting for him at her apartment… But the weather was quite nasty…

“Madame,” he said, drawing her attention from Mother Nature’s handiwork, “Would you like some company on your walk home?”

She practically blushed, giving a toothy grin.

“Oh, you’re too kind to an old lady!”

He offered her a charming smile of his own.

“It is entirely my pleasure.”

And so the two began their trek.

The journey was much…  _ slower _ than Douxie had anticipated. For every one stride he took, she needed to take three, and so he found his pace much reduced.

He looked down at the dry, elderly woman happily trotting along beside him.

“Do you mind if I make a call?” he asked.

“Oh, of course not, dear. Go right ahead.”

He nodded as he fished his phone out of his back pocket with his free hand, thankful the intended recipient was already on speed dial. She answered almost immediately.

“Hey, Zoe.”

He could hear heavy breathing and rain pelting in the background on the other end. Clearly she was  _ not _ already home.

“Douxie! Where are you?”

“Helping a lovely women get home safely.”

He eyed the woman in question, still slowly edging along the sidewalk beside him.

“It’s taking a  _ bit _ longer than expected.”

A huff of laughter from the other end.

“Listen, Zoe,” he said, “We’re going to have to take a rain check on the vinyls. Pun intended.”

She snorted against the receiver.

“I can wait a little longer, you know.”

“It’s not that,” he sighed, “I have an early shift at the cafe tomorrow. I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you! I promise.”

A hmph in his ear.

“Can’t wait to see what you come up with, Casperan.”

And then she hung up. He pocketed his phone and started plotting. Just how to please a centuries old hedge witch after spoiling what was supposed to be the perfect casual date? The gears in his head turned at a feverish pace. He couldn’t gift her a magical trinket; she already had plenty of those. Grand romantic gestures weren’t her style either. What to do? What to do? The gears in his head turned faster. And then-

_ Ding! _ He remembered the melody he’d been working on for the past week.

_ Perfect. _

\---

Douxie waited for the last note of the song to fade beyond perception before looking expectantly over at Archie. He waited. The familiar licked a paw.

“Well?” he prompted.

Archie sat back on his haunches.

“A tad sappy, wouldn’t you say?”

Douxie rolled his eyes.

“Excuse me for getting ‘a tad sappy’ writing about someone I’ve known for half a millennium.”

Archie hopped down from his perch.

“It’s a nice gesture,” he reassured, “At the very least, she’ll appreciate the thought.”

“You’re just the model wingman, aren’t you?” Douxie scoffed.

Archie shifted into his dragon form and flitted to the open window, perching himself on the sill.

“I do so try,” he said, “Enjoy the company of your  _ bright haired witch _ .”

And with a flap of his wings, he disappeared into the inky night.

As if on cue, a knock sounded from the apartment door.

“Coming,” Douxie called.

He took a moment to organize his sheets of music and set them by his guitar before trotting over to the front door and pulling it open. There stood Zoe, blue eyes as radiant as ever, with his hoodie draped over one arm and a music player in the other hand.

“Good evening, lovely,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

She moved past him with a roll of her eyes, tossing the hoodie at him.

“He thinks he’s being charming,” she said, casting a backwards glance over her shoulder, “I washed it, by the way.”

He smirked, shrugging into the black fabric.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

She flopped into the armchair with a snort. He followed after her.

“I know we said vinyls and leftovers, but guitar…”

He sat down next to the instrument and pulled it into his lap.

“...And tea…”

He beckoned towards the kitchen with one hand and two cups of piping hot liquid encased in blue light floated forth, settling themselves on the coffee table.

“...Just seemed more appealing tonight.”

He reached over his guitar to pick up his cup as Zoe tentatively eyed hers.

“Earl grey for me and for you, the most American tea I could find: peppermint.”

Something of a small smile played at the corners of Zoe’s lips before it was quickly hidden by the rim of her cup. She took a long sip, hands cupped around the hot china. Douxie did the same, although  _ he _ held his cup properly by the handle.

When Zoe finished, she set the cup back on its saucer, placed both on the coffee table, and folded her legs up under herself.

“So, whatcha got?” she asked, eyeing the guitar in his lap.

“Right,” he said, and placed his cup and saucer down too, “It’s something new so just, uh, sit back and... listen to this.”

She smirked.

“Confident about this one.”

He flashed a wry smile.

“You can thank Arch for that.”

Zoe settled more fully into the armchair as Douxie adjusted the guitar in his lap. He blew out a short breath before setting his shoulders and plucking out the first few notes of the melody. The corner of Zoe’s mouth drew slightly upward. It was a nice tune, all things considered. Soft and sweet strummed on his acoustic guitar, so different from the sharp, loud, but no less pleasant notes that sprung forth when he played his electric one.

And then the unexpected happened. He lifted his head to look directly at her, his yellow eyes boring into her very soul, and he began to  _ sing. _

“ _ Bright eyes and brighter hair _

_ Guaranteed to make me stare _

_ At this beautiful angel before me _

_ Someone help me _

_ She’s gonna destroy me _

_ With her trademark smirk _

_ And her shining eyes _

_ With her confidence _

_ And the hair she dyes _

_ She’s a seraph and she’s sunshine _

_ She’s the light of my life _

_ My bright haired witch. _ ”

He strummed one last chord and let the notes fade away into the aether, gaze focused on his fingers. Then he lifted his eyes back up to meet hers. She was still seated firmly in the armchair, feet still tucked up underneath her, with her arms crossed over her chest. She met his steady gaze with a piercing one of her own. The corners of her mouth were drawn up in a genuine smile and-

Was he imagining it or was there the tiniest,  _ faintest _ tinge of pink to her cheeks?

“Apology accepted,” she said.

He smiled and set his guitar down against the side of the sofa as she unseated herself and crossed the short distance to sit beside him.

“I’m glad I could  _ finally _ make something up to you.”

She smiled.

“Mhm. It even made up for cheating.”

He chuckled.

“I did  _ not _ cheat.  _ I _ just have 300 years more experience.”

She smirked.

“Oh yeah? Then prove it!”

He quickly held up his hands before her.

“Oh, no no no. If we start playing now, Archie will call winner when he gets back and you do  _ not _ want to play against Archie. He’s an absolute  _ menace. _ ”

Once more, a smirk played on her lips as she leaned in closer to him.

“Then however shall we pass the time?”

He matched her smirk with one of his own and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her flush against him.

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't tell, I'm not too good at writing song lyrics... or music for that matter. 😂 But I tried my darndest to do right by Douxie's song writing capabilities!
> 
> Ten points to whoever can spot the Dragons: RTTE reference.


End file.
